


professional announcements

by Emlee_J



Series: One Hundred and Seventy-Two Centimetres [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Married Couple, Married Life, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emlee_J/pseuds/Emlee_J
Summary: Someone had snapped a photo of them just as Hinata had pulled Tobio in for an jubilant kiss as they were leaving the restaurant – both of their faces flushed from joy and victory and a few too many beers. Almost immediately it was on Twitter, and then within hours it had gone viral.“If we just say we’re married, that clears everything up,” Tobio suggests.“Hmmm…” Hinata hums thoughtfully. “Because then everyone will know we’re not actually having a saucy love affair?”“Yeah. We’re just… normal.”“That sounds almost boring.”Tobio gives him a withering look. “Do you want this to continue? We have interviews tomorrow.”-In which Hinata and Kageyama wake up to find out they're trending on Twitter, not because they won their game against France yesterday, but because they're apparently in a sordid love affair. In actuality, they're just married. All Kageyama wants to do is sleep in.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: One Hundred and Seventy-Two Centimetres [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931680
Comments: 154
Kudos: 3421
Collections: Already read, kagsivity's fic archive





	professional announcements

**Author's Note:**

> one year ago (yesterday, because i'm a little late dammit) I started writing and posting on ao3! thank-you to everyone who read my fics, left a kudo, a comment, reached out and talked to me on twitter, y'all are great and a large part of why this is so fun for me! <3 <3 I hope you enjoy this tooth rotting domestic schmoop!

When Tobio blinks his sticky eyes open one morning during the beginning of summer and sees Hinata next to him, still dead to the world and happily snoring into his pillow, his first reaction is a small smirk of victory.

Being awake before Hinata is a rarity – the man has been getting up in the early hours (often before the sun had even risen) for years, and is the sort of person that once he’s awake, he’s _awake_. Tobio has long resigned himself – with great reluctance, obviously - to waking up to find sticky caramel eyes gazing back at him, or being awoken by kisses to the back of his neck or the smell of breakfast simmering on the hob.

The only time Tobio actually manages to wake up before his partner does is the day after a particularly gruelling game, and yesterday Hinata had truly outdone himself. The international season was underway and after a long five-set game against France in a packed Tokyo stadium where Hinata ran and jumped and _flew_ with machine-like consistency, it was no wonder he was absolutely wiped the morning after.

Tobio shuffles across the mattress as his smirk softens into a smile to bury his nose into Hinata’s wild mess of ginger waves.

The thing is, Tobio secretly quite enjoys a lay-in. He likes staying in the warm cocoon of bed covers and pyjamas, soft and cosy as sunlight starts to streak over the sheets. But an athlete’s lifestyle does not leave much room for lounging in bed, and Hinata usually rolls out of bed far too quickly for Tobio’s liking. So when a rare, precious day off appears, he likes to take full advantage.

He slips an arm around Hinata’s waist and pulls him close, slotting their legs together and arranging them so that should Hinata wake up any time soon, he can’t spring away. Tobio wants to doze with his husband in his arms for a change.

He’s just started to drift into that strange dimension half way between being awake and asleep, where reality kept slipping in at intervals with the snatches of dreams, when he’s startled out of it by the sudden sharp rattle of his phone vibrating across his bedside table.

Tobio grunts with annoyance and buries his head further into his pillow and Hinata’s hair, fully intent on ignoring it. He has no intention of talking to _anybody_ right now, especially not this early in the morning.

But his phone does not stop – the vibrations alternating between short and sharp for messages and long and drawn out for phone calls and, with a sigh harsh enough to ruffle the red strands beneath his chin, he flings arm out blindly for his phone. His hand smacks around the wood of the bedside table for a bit before his fingers finally find purchase on his still vibrating phone. Dragging the unnecessarily loud device into his field of vision, Tobio squints at it angrily, feebly trying to turn the stupid thing off while his eyes were still hazy with sleep.

He’s just managed to find the right button on the side of it when he notices his manager’s name lighting up the screen and his frown deepens with confusion. She, of all people, would definitely know it was his day off today, and should have no reason to contact him at all. So, with a growing feeling of trepidation, he swipes open the last message she had sent him.

_Please call me._

Tobio quirks an eyebrow and, with great reluctance, rolls himself onto his back, using one arm to keep Hinata (still unconscious, miraculously) against his side, his husband’s head lolling against his shoulder.

Eyes still squinted against the too-bright screen, Tobio stabs out a short, probably misspelled, message that it’s his day off and unless it’s urgent, he’ll call tomorrow. Jabbing send, he flings his phone back onto his bedside table with a huff and lets his head fall back against the pillow. Normally he’s not this rude, but he and Hinata hardly ever get any full days off together, and Tobio wants to _sleep_.

He’s just let his eyes slide closed again and gotten comfy when, as if on cue, his phone starts rattling again.

With a snarl, he flings his hand out again, grabs his traitorous phone, and stuffs it under his pillow where the vibration was now muffled beneath several layers of high quality goose down.

Next to him, there’s a snuffle and a groan and Tobio slides his eyes over with great disappointment to see Hinata starting to rub at his own with the hand not currently pinned to Tobio’s side.

“Mmmm, morning…” Hinata sighs, once he’s finished pawing at his face. But he doesn’t open his eyes or say anything more or give any indication that he’s about to move much at all. Instead, he drags his lips clumsily where they meet the skin of Tobio’s shoulder, puffs out a sigh, and then to Tobio’s great relief, just settles.

“Morning,” Tobio murmurs back, affection fighting away the annoyance from the unwanted seven am phone calls, angling his head the best he can to press a kiss to Hinata’s brow, letting the fingers of the hand still pressed to his partner trail up and down sleep-warm skin softly.

Hinata must really be exhausted. Normally, once he starts to wake, it’s not long at all before he basically snaps back to full awareness, somehow immediately ready to take on the whole day only thirty seconds into being conscious. But this morning he seems content to doze for a change, snuggling close against Tobio’s side and breathing slow and deep.

Tobio makes a drowsy mental note to ensure his partner does nothing too strenuous for the rest of the day if he’s still this wiped. They can’t risk any chance of Hinata being subbed out in his debut international season.

“’Yama…” Hinata breathes out against his skin, after a long moment.

Tobio hums back, keeping his eyes resolutely shut.

“Why’s the pillow rumbling…?” His husband slurs, and Tobio sighs deeply.

“It’s my phone. Just ignore it.”

“Why is it,” Hinata breaks off to yawn loudly, legs shuffling against Tobio’s beneath the covers. “Why is it under the _pillow?”_

Tobio grunts and reaches out to drag his surprisingly pliant husband bodily on top of him, pressing Hinata’s head under his chin and wrapping both arms firmly around his shoulders. “Just ignore it. Go to sleep,” he says, rough with drowsiness and annoyance.

True to form, Hinata ignores him, wiggling in his arms until his face is free from Tobio’s clavicle, and then he’s pawing about with a curious hand until he’s managed to fetch Tobio’s _still_ vibrating phone out from its pillow prison and holding it up so he can blearily squint at it.

“Your manager has left you… twenty eight voice mails,” Hinata says, voice a little croaky.

“I don’t care,” Tobio grunts, keeping his eyes stubbornly shut. Maybe if he keeps ignoring it, the problem will just go away and he and Hinata can go back to sleep.

“It’s probably important.”

“It’s also our day off,” Tobio points out, cracking open one eye.

Hinata just looks down at him, unimpressed, before he plants his arms on either side of Tobio’s torso and raises himself up on his elbows so he can tap away at Tobio’s phone. At least he doesn’t move from where he’s pressed down the length of him, so Tobio takes what he can get and rests his hands on the small of his partner’s back and closes his eye again, getting comfortable.

With his cheek nuzzled into his pillow and Hinata a warm, heavy presence against him, Tobio starts to immediately nod off again, awareness slipping away gently, until he’s drifting and the beginnings of a dream are just starting to-

Then his husband starts poking him in the shoulder. Hard.

“Kageyama. Kageyama. _Tobio._ ”

“ _What?”_ Tobio all but whines.

“You might want to look at this.”

With a great sigh of deep misfortune and borderline despair, Tobio opens his eyes and glares at his husband and then at his phone (slightly more viciously), trying to force the blurry words into focus.

When they do, his hands tighten across Hinata’s back and he kisses his dreams of a lazy morning in bed a mournful goodbye.

“Oh fuck,” he says, eloquently.

Five minutes later, he’s fully sitting up in bed, Hinata slumped against his side, staring daggers down at his phone.

Turns out, the reason why his manager (along with several other people, including the national team coach and the Alders coach and some of their teammates and Yachi _and_ his sister) had been trying to get in contact with him all morning was that he and Hinata had been _spotted_ last night. Out. Celebrating their win. _Enthusiastically_ celebrating by kissing outside the restaurant they’d been to.

And the reason this was a problem was that, up until this very moment, he and Hinata had been very careful to keep the true nature of their relationship hidden under wraps from the general public.

It wasn’t that they were ashamed of it, or that it was a _secret_ , per se – everyone they knew was aware, of course. Most of them were at their wedding. It was just being in the public eye, especially with volleyball being so popular now with Team Japan’s meteoric rise recently through the worldwide rankings, meant a little too much interest in their personal lives for both of their tastes. They each got their fair share of questions that weren’t about volleyball during interviews enough as it is, and that was already exhausting enough, let alone having to explain to being _married_ to another player on the regular.

Some things they just wanted to keep for themselves – happily married being one of them.

The restaurant they’d been to was a tiny family-owned place near to Tobio’s flat (which they both lived in whenever Hinata didn’t have to be with the Jackals – who were based several prefectures away.) They went there regularly and had never had any trouble, outside of the occasional fan who wanted an autograph and a selfie or two. But it seems for once luck was not on their side, and someone had snapped a photo of them just as Hinata had pulled Tobio in for an jubilant kiss as they were leaving – both of their faces flushed from joy and victory and a few too many beers.

Almost immediately it was on Twitter, and then within hours it had gone viral, until all of Tobio’s (admittedly normally rather barren) social media and news feeds were completely full of the photo, in various crops and zooms and edits, and with countless articles about them.

Hinata squints at the phone screen from where his head was pillowed on Tobio’s shoulder. He’s being remarkably calm about it all – not rushing out to fetch his own phone like he normally would’ve done, and Tobio suspects it’s only his still lingering tiredness that’s keeping him in bed.

“Okay, I did not _ravage_ you,” Hinata protests with a pout when one headline proudly declares it so, accompanied by a photo that Tobio is convinced has been edited. There’s no way the lighting from the dingy streetlamp overhead was _that_ good. They look like they’re on a movie poster.

“Well…” Tobio starts, tilting his head in consideration, because that wasn’t strictly true, and Hinata digs his chin viciously into the join between his shoulder and his neck.

“I waited until we got home, I have _manners_ ,” Hinata reminds him, but there’s a spark of mischief in his still sleepy voice.

Tobio’s mouth tilts up in a soft smile and he lets his head drop sideways until it’s resting on top of his partner’s as he continues to scroll through the never-ending stream of tweets and posts and articles and videos (on _what_ , he cannot fathom.) There’s hardly any news at all about Team Japan’s victory, and the realisation makes him frown deeply in annoyance. It was a good game too, there were several plays he was particularly proud of, and they had _won!_ That was certainly more newsworthy than him kissing his own husband in their private time, surely? People kissed their spouses every day. Did people make emergency sets with their fingertips with their non-dominant hand to claim victory every day? No they did not.

Hinata yawns again, long and shuddering, slumping a little heavier against Tobio, before he’s suddenly reaching out to stop Tobio’s continually scrolling thumb so the feed stops at one particular article.

“Why would us kissing affect the team?” He asks suddenly, voice quiet and low, and Tobio lifts his head up so he can peer down at his husband properly.

Hinata’s face is crumpled in a troubled frown, his mouth pursed in a thin, unhappy line, and Tobio would kiss it away were he able to bend that way. The post Hinata’s stopped him on is so ridiculous, it doesn’t even really qualify as an article. The bold headline asks if Team Japan will call a crisis meeting over their ‘salacious rendezvous’ (whatever that meant) and claimed several players, not named of course, were already concerned about the team dynamic.

“It wouldn’t. People like to make up this sort of bullshit because it gets them _attention_ , Shouyou, you know this,” Tobio points out diplomatically.

Hinata hums, distracted and seemingly unconvinced, and Tobio sighs, dropping his phone into his lap. He winds one arm around his husband’s waist so he can hold him properly. “Shou. They’re just creating whatever headlines they need to to get people to click, that’s all it is,” he says firmly.

It’s something Hinata is still struggling with a little – the dark side that comes with public attention. Most of the time, the press had nothing but positive things to say about Hinata, something he made easy to do, with his stunning play style and bright personality that inevitably drew people in. But every now and then there was a gossip article, or a tweet based on a rumour, or a particularly unflattering photo, and the ugly side of the media rears its head. Hinata still takes these instances a little too personally sometimes, these attacks on his character based on nothing but lies, his usually relentless will to see the good in people dimming slightly in the face of baseless vitriol.

Tobio rubs his thumb idly across the bare skin of Hinata’s waist, thinking, before he declares, “Let’s just announce we’re married.”

Hinata jerks under his arm and rears back enough so that he can peer at Tobio like he’d said something remarkably stupid (which was a bit rude, in Tobio’s opinion.) “How will that help?”

“Well, at the moment everyone’s making up stories because they all think we’ve embarked on a secret love affair,” Tobio reasons, gesturing down at his phone in his lap.

“We _are_ secret,” Hinata says in a low, conspiring voice, and Tobio flicks the end of his nose.

“Not like that, idiot. Like _no-one_ knows secret,” Tobio says with a roll of his eyes. “But if we say we’re married, that clears everything up.”

“Hmmm…” Hinata hums thoughtfully, staring off into the middle distance and fiddling with the duvet swathing their legs idly. “Because then everyone will know we’re not actually having a saucy love affair?”

“Yeah. We’re just… normal.”

“That sounds almost boring.”

Tobio gives him a withering look. “Do you want this to continue? We have interviews tomorrow.”

Hinata winces. “Oh. Oh yeah, we do.” He claps both hands over his face so he can groan his annoyance into his palms before he sucks in a breath and lowers them, giving Tobio a suddenly determined look and grabbing for his left hand. “Take a photo then.”

“A photo?” Tobio repeats, completely baffled by this demand. “Of what, us in bed?” Surely that’s a terrible idea. They’re both shirtless and there’s more than few marks across their skin that paints a picture that’s far from innocent. If anything, it’ll just add fuel to the already out of control fire blazing across the internet.

“Of our _hands_ , dummy,” Hinata says with a pointed look, lifting both of them in question and shaking Tobio’s lightly, their matching rings glinting softly in the morning light.

“Oh, right. Good idea,” Tobio says once the lightbulb has gone off, and he picks up his phone and opens the camera. They squabble for a few minutes over how best to lay their hands and who got to put their hand on top, before Tobio solves this conundrum by clasping Hinata’s hand in his and lifting them up, snapping the photo before Hinata can protest about the angle or the lighting or whatever else.

“Well at least you got the rings in it,” Hinata says, still a little surly, as Tobio tries to work out how to tweet a photo.

“Shut-up,” Tobio grunts back with no heat, distracted by the sheer number of icons under the tweet box. He only puts out a message on his verified twitter account once every few months at best, and most of those are tweets he has to send under some contract or another, and he never posts anything except text. So Hinata, looking exasperated and who tweets about twenty times a day on average, nabs his phone to somehow not only get their photo up but also have a link to the article claiming they were throwing the national team into chaos with their sudden affair appear below. Tobio boggles at this display of technical ingenuity and then immediately straightens his face into careful blankness when his partner hands him back his phone with a smug smile. No need to give Hinata more fuel to crow about his ineptitude with Twitter of all things more than he already does.

“What should I write?” Tobio asks, thumbs hovering above the keyboard, unsure how to play this.

“’We’re married’?” Hinata suggests with a shrug.

“To the point,” Tobio agrees, typing out the words, before he pauses. “Maybe we should add the date…”

“Why?”

“Well, won’t people think we just… eloped last night or something otherwise?”

“Oh yeah, good point, okay add the date in then,” Hinata says, peering over Tobio’s shoulder as he adds their wedding date to the message. After a moment’s thought, he adds an ‘actually’ to the end of ‘we’re married’ as well, and then shows the completed post to Hinata for approval.

His husband nods enthusiastically in response and Tobio taps the tweet button, watching the little post upload and, hopefully, clear away most of the more outlandish theories. He’s still dreading being asked overly personal questions tomorrow during the scheduled press conference, but at least he won’t be asked if he and Hinata had had a daring one-night stand by any bold tabloid reporters.

“So much for staying secret,” Hinata laments, twisting his head to press a kiss to the sensitive spot just below Tobio’s ear, causing him to shiver. “Breakfast?”

Tobio deliberates this with pursed lips. On one hand, yes he wants breakfast, because he always wants breakfast. On the other, he also really wants to just drag Hinata back down into the covers and demand they have their lazy morning in bed, now they’ve silenced the gossip mill.

“We can have breakfast _in bed_ ,” Hinata points out, apparently correctly deciphering Tobio’s internal dilemma, wiggling his eyebrows with a suggestive smile.

“Deal,” Tobio agrees, immediately, and allows himself to be dragged from the comforts of the duvet and to the kitchen.

They both make breakfast in relative quiet. Well, Hinata makes most of it. Tobio contributes his painstakingly perfected speciality – toast – and then drapes himself over Hinata while his partner finishes the last of the rice.

“You’re being very quiet, are you okay?” Tobio checks. Normally, his husband is an irrepressible ball of energy in the mornings, but today he’s slow and silent.

“I’m just tired,” Hinata admits, tilting his torso back so it was comfortably nestled into Tobio’s embrace with a soft sigh.

Tobio peers down at him, at his slightly pale face and the way his eyes are half-lidded and smudged with dark circles, and scowls, arms tightening around his husband’s waist. If Hinata, who is essentially a lightning bolt condensed into a relatively small person – fast and blinding – was admitting he was tired, he must really be feeling rough. Tobio’s going to make sure he does nothing at all for the rest of the day. And possibly also sue that online publication for causing unnecessary distress.

“But it’s a _good_ tired,” Hinata continues suddenly, as he divvies up the rice into two bowls. “Yesterday’s game was _so_ good.” He turns in Tobio’s arms, breakfast finished, and beams up a smile that’s tight at the corners but no less bright for it, and Tobio’s sour thoughts melt away.

“It _was_ good. _We_ were good,” Tobio agrees, letting a matching grin spread over his face, until it meets Hinata’s as his partner rocks up on his toes and pulls him down for a kiss. They stay like that for a while, kissing soft and slow in the middle of the kitchen, until someone’s (probably Tobio’s) stomach rumbles and Hinata drops back down to his feet and together they collect their meal and start padding back to the bedroom, Hinata collecting his own phone where he’d left it on the counter last night on the way.

“Your last set was _incredible!_ With your _left hand_ , Kageyama! It was like-“

Tobio cuts off Hinata’s babbling by sticking a piece of toast in his mouth, snickering quietly at the muffled indignation around buttery bread as he clambers into bed and arranges their bowls and plates of rice and eggs and toast around them like it was a grand feast.

Hinata crawls in next to him, licking off the remaining butter off his fingers and looking down at his phone in his other hand. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been this popular,” he comments lightly, scrolling through what looks like to Tobio to be an infinite stream of messages.

Tobio grunts and squints over at his own phone, which has gone suspiciously silent since he’d sent the tweet out.

Oh. The battery had died, that was why.

He shrugs and reaches for his breakfast, as Hinata builds a pillow wall behind them for them both to lounge back against. If his phone's dead he can’t answer anyone, and what a shame that was. His manager really will just have to wait. But they’ve sorted the problem anyway, so honestly there should be no need to call her at all once he can be bothered to find his phone charger.

“Hey! We made the news!” Hinata says excitedly as he stuffs scrambled egg into his mouth.

Tobio peers over his shoulder with a curious noise, munching on a slice of toast, and almost spits crumbs over the bedding.

In the, apparently live, stream on Hinata’s phone there’s a photo up on the screen behind the news reporters. And instead of a replay of their last combo, the combo that _won them the match at their home game_ , it was a screenshot of Tobio’s tweet, the two news anchors talking animatedly about it.

“At least it’s positive?” Hinata says slowly, sounding absolutely baffled as Tobio feels as both of the two middle-aged television presenters talk about their announcement as though no-one had ever gotten married before.

Hinata’s phone then buzzes in his hand and the news stream is wiped away, replaced by a new flurry of messages from an alarming number of people, and several phone calls trying to connect all at once.

“Is this really such a big deal?” Hinata wonders to Tobio as he finishes the last of his egg.

Tobio shrugs at him, equally nonplussed.

Hinata hums in thought, before he brings up Twitter again and starts sending off a flurry of posts at a speed Tobio cannot keep up with.

“What are you doing?” He asks, around a mouthful of food.

He lifts up a slice of toast to bite into when Hinata gives him a hopeful look, big brown eyes round and shiny, thumbs still flying over his phone screen and Tobio sighs, holding it out.

Hinata grabs onto it with his teeth. “Fanks,” he mumbles around the bread. “I’m jush eckshplainin.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Tobio says, with his mouth full.

“I’m just explaining. Us, I mean,” Hinata repeats once he’s swallowed. “Like where we met, how long we’ve been together, all that stuff,”

“Why?” Tobio asks, slightly put out. He’s not entirely sure he wants all of that information out for all of the general public to just _have_.

“It’s just the absolute basics,” Hinata reassures. “Because we’re going to be asked all of these questions anyway, so we might as well answer them all now? And then tomorrow we can get back to _volleyball_.”

Tobio cannot deny this logic, as much as he doesn’t like it, so he waits patiently for Hinata to finish his stream of posts (“it’s called a _thread_ , Tobio”) and then he reaches out for Hinata’s phone, checks his husband has said nothing tremendously stupid or embarrassing and then switches it off. With a flick of his wrist, he tosses it to join his own phone on the bedside table and then starts collecting the bowls and plates to make a little stack of dirty crockery by the side of the bed.

“Don’t we need to keep at least one on?” Hinata asks, but he doesn’t crawl over Tobio to fetch either device, so Tobio figures he doesn’t actually mind his phone was confiscated.

“Nope,” Tobio replies. “It’s our day off and we’re sleeping,” he orders, dragging down some pillows from the mountain behind their backs. He wraps both arms around his husband’s waist and yanks, pulling his spiker down into the bedding with a muffled _‘oof!’_

“This seems like a waste of a day,” Hinata muses as he pokes and prods at Tobio until he rolls over so Hinata can attach himself to his back like a limpet.

“You’re exhausted. I’m tired. It’s our day off, we’re sleeping, we’re not looking at Twitter or the news and everyone can just sort themselves out for a few hours,” Tobio rants grumpily, twining their fingers together where Hinata’s hands are pressed near his belly. “Tomorrow’s going to be bullshit enough as it is.”

“Mmmm, okay,” Hinata agrees, voice already thick and drowsy with sleep inevitably rising to claim him. “Let’s stay in.”

Tobio grunts his approval and blows out a long sigh, a small smirk of victory worming its way back onto his face.

Despite the unwanted interlude, and how much he really isn’t looking forward to tomorrow’s press conference, at least, right now, he gets to have a lay-in with his husband, for as long as both of them want.

**Author's Note:**

> I just had a craving for married kagehina. if you would like to scream at me about haikyuu, I am over on twitter @Emlee_J


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